


Setting the Bar High

by veroreos



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Attempted Sexual Assault, Boss/Employee Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Power Dynamics, Protective Boba Fett, Reader does not have specified genitalia, Reader-Insert, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Safe Sane and Consensual, Soft Boba Fett, Strangers to Lovers, decisions are made and consent is given while both parties are sober and lucid, like. SO soft y'all, nobody takes advantage of anyone, nothing bad happens the the reader I promise, one person tries and fails and Boba kills them for it, there's more pining than there is porn I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29887692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veroreos/pseuds/veroreos
Summary: Being a pilot that transports less-than-legal goods isn't always easy, especially when you're an omega, but working for Boba Fett comes with a lot of perks.Boba has your back, and eventually asks you to have his.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	Setting the Bar High

**Author's Note:**

> If you told me 6 months ago that I would be writing reader-insert a/b/o fanfiction for motherfucking Boba Fett I would have laughed in your face, but the world is just like that I guess? This idea would not stop haunting me until I wrote it and now that's everyone's problem
> 
> Pardon for any Star Wars inaccuracies, if you have any you want to point out to me please feel free to write them on a piece of paper and then crumple it up and eat it

Boba Fett is, hands down, no competition, the best employer you’ve ever had.

You wouldn’t say you’re proud of the not-so-scrupulous elements in your line of work, but you also tend to keep your nose out of the business end of things, so you don’t get hung up on ethics or morals much. All you’re doing is flying your ship from place to place, not asking questions about the cargo that comes and goes, nor the crews that tag along. You work directly for Fett, and people don’t fuck with you.

He’d assured that from Day One, when he’d met you at your ship and inspected the vessel. It was by no means a luxury craft, but that was part of the point—to stay nondescript, to not attract attention. You had a _lot_ of practice at that.

Being an omega in a cutthroat industry wasn’t easy, after all.

You pay a hefty sum for the high grade suppressants you take, but they’re well worth the cost. People always mistake you for a beta. Even contracts you’ve known for years are none the wiser, and you’re plenty content to keep it that way. Relying on others has never worked out well for you in the past, and you aren’t looking for an alpha to try and change your mind.

It was when you were alone on your ship with Boba Fett that he turned to you, the blank stare of his helmet fixed on your face, and started tearing down your walls. “Has anyone given you trouble?”

You stared back at him, flight helmet tucked under your arm, and raised a brow. “I’m sorry?”

“For being an omega.”

You don’t know what expression you’d made then, but you remember feeling the color draining from your face and the massive spike of adrenaline nearly throwing you into a panic. He realized immediately that he’d accidentally pulled back the curtain, that you hadn't expected him to see backstage and weren't prepared. Before you could flee, Boba took a step back, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. It wasn’t quite submissive—an alpha like him doesn’t know _how_ to submit—but he attempted to put you both back on an even playing field.

If he’d wanted to, he could have overpowered you easily. You both knew that. Boba had the upper hand, yet he purposefully folded to you out of respect.

You’d only just met the man, yet he’d already given you more than most people would.

“I’ve known a lot of omegas that work as bounty hunters,” Boba had explained, to soothe your concerns. “I can tell by the way you keep your ship, scent or no.” The man was renowned for his cunning, amongst other things, so that didn’t come as a huge surprise. A keen eyed predator in the den of its prey? Of course he could piece something like that together.

You swallowed and looked away, your nerves painfully frayed from suddenly feeling so exposed. “It’s been a long time since anyone has known,” you answered truthfully. “Back when I had to take cheaper, less reliable suppressants, I...ran into a lot of trouble, yes.”

“Alright,” he responded, sounding surprisingly solemn. He didn’t press you for anything more than that. “If anyone tries anything, you tell me immediately. I don’t care if they work for me. I don’t care what they do. The _moment_ someone threatens your safety, I want to know. Understood?”

You blinked, then slowly nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Boba glanced around the cockpit, searching for a free space along the dashboard. “I’ll have an emergency switch installed. It’ll be silent and discreet, so you don’t have to worry about anyone noticing. When you activate it, we’ll contact you and someone will meet you to assist if necessary.”

“I…” It was embarrassing to be so tongue-tied in front of him, and you were only barely managing to fight back tears. “Th-thank you, sir. I’ve never...nobody’s ever…”

Being accommodated for was a rarity, and even then it usually only happened in the Upper Rim when people mistook you for somebody worth giving a shit about. Fett wasn’t offering to go to great lengths—he had _already decided to_ on his own, without you having to ask.

He looked at you and was silent for a long moment. For some reason, you had the impression that he wanted to comfort you, perhaps with a pat on the shoulder. He kept himself at arm’s length to respect your boundaries instead though, and he made his stance crystal clear.

“We protect our own.”

  
  


For the first several months of operating under his employ, everything went perfectly fine.

There were a couple of sleazy crewmates here and there who gave you the creeps in general, but in those cases, most everyone else on the ship tended to agree. Very rarely did you feel singled out, and when you did, you would adjust the visor of your flight helmet and remind them that you worked directly for Boba Fett.

That got people to back off pretty fast.

Between assignments you’d often stay at hotels off-planet, wherever you happened to be. On rare occasions you’d find yourself at Boba’s palace, enjoying drinks at the bar when he had guests, lounging around the loading platform when he wasn’t holding an audience. You slept on your ship the first few times you’d docked there, until Fennec informed you that there was a room reserved for your stays at the palace.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, I don’t think that I—”

“It’s already done. Talk to Boba if you intend to refuse it.”

Refusing gifts from an alpha was one thing, but refusing gifts from your crime lord boss seemed a whole new level of stupid, so you begrudgingly accepted your new residency. 

The room ended up being nice: decently sized, but not nearly as lavish and opulent as many of the other palace chambers; enough space to store your things without feeling too cramped or too empty; a comfortable bed with fresh silk sheets every time you came back to it; a potted cactus on the windowsill you occasionally got to see flowering. You knew this wasn’t much, that a man like Boba has so much power at his disposal, a quaint little room to store his pilot in was practically inconsequential. But he’d bothered to think about it and have it done for you, again without your asking.

Considering potential implications made your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, so you chose not to look for extra meaning in Boba’s actions where there likely was none.

You rarely saw the man himself other than in passing. Sometimes when the palace was lively, you’d make eye contact with him from across the throne room and give him a nod of acknowledgment, a gesture he would return before going back to business. On the occasion he seemed to have free time, he’d check in with you in the cargo bay, asking about recent assignments and how your vessel was fairing. Boba’s company was pleasant, if occasionally somewhat curt, and the tone always stayed professional, like he’d drawn a line in the sand that he refused to cross.

He’d never once brought up you being an omega again.

You were more grateful for that than you could possibly express.

  
  


It was five months in when you first used the emergency switch.

What should have been a simple pick-up had gone to shit when an unexpected blockade from a rival syndicate kept you from the rendezvous point. You had to get in contact with the other party to set up a new point elsewhere, which added another several days to your time in space. Then there were the skirmishes—the rival syndicate knew you were carrying expensive cargo, and more than once you’d narrowly escaped with some damage to your ship that was beginning to accumulate.

You were cranky. Everyone else on the ship was cranky too, but you were _especially_ cranky, snapping at anyone who poked their head into the cockpit to question or complain or so much as ask what the ETA was. Not only were you tired and stressed, but your body felt like shit, like you were constantly on the verge of a fever. You assumed that you were coming down with something and mentally made a note to ask Boba for a few days off as soon as you got back to the palace.

You didn’t know something was wrong until one of the crew members, a Mon Calamari whose name you hadn’t bothered learning (as was custom with most people who passed through your ship), asked to speak with you in the cockpit. You hadn’t looked at him when he entered, busy checking over your flight plans, and it was when he closed the door behind him that you paused and gave him your attention.

“Forgive me if this is not my place,” he began, already earning your respect more than anyone else on this crew had so far, “but I overheard one of my crewmates speaking rather... _crudely_ about you.”

“Let me guess: the jackoff with the slicked back hair and cheap leather jacket?” Jacket guy had made several passes at you already, all of which had gone poorly for him. “Thanks, but I’m already aware he’s slime.”

The Mon Calamari gave a small, shallow laugh. “I’m sure, but—he mentioned something about ‘convincing you,’ after I caught him rifling through some of your things.” Realization set in, and your skin ran cold. “I don’t know exactly what he’s planning or what he did, but he’s disgusting and you needed to know.”

Your thoughts started running a mile a minute as you ran through every interaction you’d had with the man. He’d seemed pretty put out the first few times you rejected his advances, but at some point he started simply brushing that off, as if he thought you’d come around eventually. You had chalked that up to shitty alpha ego, but...you had also been feeling increasingly irate and feverish over the past several days, and it wasn’t until then that you recognized the warning signs your body had been sending you.

A heat.

The fucker had tampered with your suppressants.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said to the Mon Calamari, sincerity clear in your voice. “I can take it from here.” He bowed his head to you and took his leave, and as soon as the door closed behind him, with a shaking hand, you flipped the emergency switch.

As Boba had said, there was no fanfare, no alarm, no indication that anything had changed. Moments later, you received an incoming transmission from the palace, and when you opened the line, Boba himself appeared on the holo. “ _What’s the situation?_ ”

His low, heavy voice sent heat to your core, and you had to suppress a groan. “An alpha on the crew is trying to force me into heat.”

Boba visibly tensed, his hands curling into fists at his side. “ _Are you alright? If you need to land now—_ ”

“We’re only a day out from the palace,” you interrupted, internally flinching at the fact that you’d cut off _Boba Fett_ , even though he didn’t seem to mind. “I can last that long, but I...I need someone to keep him off me after we arrive. I might not be thinking clearly, and that’s when he might…”

“ _I'll be there the moment you enter the atmosphere._ ” You sighed in relief, and he watched you carefully. “ _What do you need for your heat?_ ” You hadn’t even thought that far ahead. It had been so long since the last time you’d dealt with a heat, you didn’t know where to begin. Boba sensed your hesitancy and waved it off. “ _We can figure that out when you arrive. Let me know if there’s anything I can prepare for you._ ”

“Thank you, sir.” After you’d ended the call with him, you put your head in your hands and tried not to scream.

The next day you barely left the cockpit at all, a wet ache between your legs growing worse with every passing moment. You were certain that everyone could smell you at this point, and you couldn’t bear to look at any of them.

When the man in the jacket had knocked on the cockpit door and politely asked you if anything was wrong or if he could help you in any way, you damn near shot him dead. The only reason you didn’t is because you knew whatever Boba had planned was going to be far worse.

As promised, immediately upon landing, Boba was at the ramp of your ship, along with several of his guards and Fennec. The crew was confused when they were not allowed to leave the ship, but wisely didn’t speak up when Boba came aboard, walking briskly past all of them and into the cockpit.

“Which one?” You only got halfway through describing the guy with the jacket when Boba turned, spotted him, and gestured at him to Fennec. In an instant, Fennec had the man in binders and was dragging him out of the ship by his collar, ignoring his protests and pleas, the guards following to make sure he had no chance to escape. Boba gruffly barked at the rest of the crew to get back to work, then looked at you, his entire demeanor immediately shifting. “Are you alright? What do you need?”

Maker, you wanted to climb that man like a tree. You couldn’t even look him in the eye when you replied, “W-Want to go to my room, please…”

He nodded and took a step toward you. “I’m going to put my arm around you to cover your scent, alright?” It was a good thing he gave you a warning, because the moment Boba’s arm settled over your shoulder, your knees gave out.

It was a blur after that. You don’t remember if you managed to walk or if Boba had to carry you, or if you ran into anyone on your way, or anything Boba might have said to you between the cockpit and your bed. All you remember is waking up in your bed with your heat in full force, food and drink waiting for you on your nightstand, and a rather wide assortment of _tools_ to assist you through your heat.

You were tended to in the following days. Servants came and went to make sure you had everything you needed and were constantly fed, Fennec checked in every so often to see how you were faring.

Boba was absent through the entirety of your heat. He was still in the palace, you’d heard so from Fennec herself, but he stayed completely clear of you. That was definitely the correct call on his part, but in the throes of your heat, he had become the center of your fantasies. Imagining the deep cadence of his voice soothed your ache and stoked your flames all at once, and knowing he was just out of reach was its own form of torture.

Like all terrible things, your heat eventually passed, and you were left with mortification and guilt.

  
  


The next time you saw him was while he was “holding an audience” in the throne room, the usual cozy criminal bar vibe making the place buzz with activity. You loitered by the entrance while Boba spoke with some smugglers he’d recently made a business partnership with, waiting for them to be finished so you could have your turn borrowing the crime lord's attention. However, when Boba spotted you, he waved off everyone speaking to him immediately. He pointed to you with his index, then turned his hand over and beckoned to you with the curl of that single finger.

That motion was enough to bring a blush to your face, which didn’t help the situation at _all_.

You approached nonetheless, weaving through the small gathering of people to reach the dais. None of them turned and stared at you, or seemed to notice your presence at all, really. Situational normal, just how you liked it.

Except for when you walked up to the dais and Boba looked you up and down, shifting from his leisurely spread across the throne to sit up and address you properly. _That_ was a gesture of respect that drew attention, mainly from the brooding smugglers that had their conversation with him interrupted by you. You could feel them watching you from the bar but were pinned in place by Boba’s voice. “You’re looking better.”

“Yes, sir.” Boba let out a small huff at the title, out of amusement, you thought, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call him anything different. “Thank you for…all of that. For everything. It’s more than I could have asked for.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask.” Unsure of what to say to that, you simply bowed your head in deference. “Do you want to watch his punishment?”

You paused, blinking up at him. “I...what? Didn’t Fennec apprehend him days ago?”

Boba nodded. “We’ve had him locked up since you arrived. I held off on his retribution in case you wanted to see it.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure if you would call the gesture _romantic_ , but it did put butterflies in your stomach and make your cheeks redden. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ve been going back and forth on a few ideas.” Boba leaned back and drummed his fingers along one of the armrests, the grin clear in his voice. “Hutt used to keep a rancor under the throne room he’d feed people to, that’s certainly an option. Thought about hanging him from the ceiling and using him as target practice, too.”

Maker, this shouldn’t have stroked your ego as much as it did. Something about a powerful alpha offering to brutalize another alpha that’d threatened you was an absolute thrill you’d never felt before. Was this normal? _Was_ this supposed to be a romantic gesture? You weren’t sure, you just knew your heart was burning for the man.

Boba tilted his head at you when he noticed you go quiet. “Or...would you like to decide his fate?”

Your breath hitched and you quickly shook your head. “No, sir. I, uh...I don’t need to watch. Knowing he’s going to suffer is more than enough.” Normally you wouldn't consider yourself squeamish, but watching a man being torn to pieces by a wild beast was more appealing as a concept than as a reality.

Thankfully, Boba seemed to be understanding. “I’ll let you know when it’s been done.”

You bowed and thanked him again, and he let you go back to your own devices. The smugglers from before watched you leave before going to resume their business talk.

When the time came the very next day, Boba informed you with a single message via holopad.

_I dealt with him personally._

  
  


That incident sparked an unfortunate change in your life. 

Your body developed a resistance to your suppressants. They stopped being as effective, and suddenly, you weren’t invisible anymore.

People began noticing you. _Alphas_ began noticing you. You went from being a nobody to being “the spitfire omega that works for Fett,” a title you might have been flattered by if especially persistent alphas didn’t take that as a _challenge_. The smart alphas kept their yaps shut, knowing who you worked under.

The alphas that decided to run their mouths often found themselves being shot out of the airlock.

The fourth time you flicked the emergency switch in a two week span, Boba answered with exasperation in his voice. “ _This better be an actual emergency._ ”

“It’s about to be when I cut this Twi’lek’s fucking hands off,” you snarled in response. Boba chuckled, but you were too irritated to find mirth in your own remark. “Do you think I’m joking? I’m going to leave this man in pieces, and you can take his stupid lekku and put them on the mantle or something.”

“ _Mantle? There’s no fireplace here. It’s a desert._ ”

“Fine! I know somewhere else you can shove them!”

You wouldn’t have _dreamed_ of talking to Boba that way before, but after so many people had tried to take advantage of your demure attitude, you were done. If people were going to notice you, it was going to be on _your_ terms.

(That, and you had become keenly aware that Boba had something of a soft spot for you.)

“ _Little one_ ,” Boba soothed, his voice a low rumble, your heart fluttering at the endearment, “ _we need a solution to this problem that isn’t you killing every foolish alpha that wanders onto your ship._ ”

You groaned and put your head in your hands. “Fine. But if this Twi’lek touches me one more time—“

“ _Eviscerate him._ ”

  
  


The solution Boba proposed wasn’t what you were expecting. You don’t know _what_ you were expecting, but it wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

“I could scent you.”

Color quickly rose to your face, and you glanced around the bustling throne room to see if anyone had overheard that. Before you could be sure, Boba stood, quickly and silently closed the distance between the two of you, and used one finger to take your chin and turn your attention back to him. Your words were practically a squeak when you managed to find them. “Are you serious?”

“When have I ever joked about something like this with you?” Never. Boba doesn’t joke about these kinds of things, period. Yet still, you were in disbelief, eyes scanning Boba’s helmet as if that was going to help you get a read on him as he continued. “It would dissuade others from making unwanted advances.”

That was probably true. If knowing you worked for Boba wasn’t enough, smelling him on you would be a far stronger warning and paint a better picture of the repercussions. You closed your eyes to think for a moment, taking a deep breath. He was standing so close to you, his presence was so tempting, it was difficult to think past your infatuation with the man. “I’m not… _opposed_ , but are—are you sure? That you want to…associate with me. In that way.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t ready to do it.” 

Boba’s confidence was something else, and you have no idea how he did it. Being as competent as he is would merit an ego boost, you supposed. After another second of deliberation, you opened your eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

To the surprise of you and everyone else in the room, Boba removed his helmet, then and there. The _hiss_ of the helmet was too soft to draw people’s attention, but the _clank_ of the helmet hitting the sandstone floor wasn’t. He moved too quickly for anyone to get a good look, even you—dark eyes, scarred flesh, and a heated expression of _want_ was all you could recall from that brief glimpse—before he hauled you close and pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

_Oh._

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to steady your breathing and not get overwhelmed. That was impossible though, not with the way everyone in the room saw what was happening, the way Boba was staking a claim over you, the way one of his hands went to your lower back while the other went to hold your head by your hair, forcing you to bare your neck further to him, the way he slowly, purposefully trailed his nose along the underside of your jaw, his skin so hot against your own you couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to have him warming your bed—

By the time Boba moved to the other side of your neck, you were practically limp in his arms, weakly clutching at his biceps in an effort to steady yourself. There was a rumble of laughter from Boba when he noticed how he was affecting you, so deep and low you could feel it in his chest against yours. He tucked his face against your neck, his lips brushing over your skin just beneath your ear. “When they smell my scent on you, they’ll remember how you gave yourself to me in front of my throne. They’ll remember that I showed everyone here that you’re mine. And they’ll know the hell I would bring upon them if they so much as laid a _finger_ on you.”

You managed to hold back the sob that threatened to wrench itself from your throat, but you couldn’t hide the way you were trembling, nor the fat tears that rolled down your cheeks at his words. Boba pulled back enough to wipe away your tears with a leather clad thumb, then rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes and met his burning gaze, unable to move.

“Thank you,” you whispered, so soft even Boba could barely hear you.

“Of course,” he responded smoothly, lingering for a moment longer before stooping down to pick up his helmet, placing it back on his head and sauntering back to his throne as if nothing had happened.

Conversations resumed, the deathly silence that had filled the room passing now that Boba’s attention was back and nobody wanted to be caught gawking. You were frozen, uncertain what to do with yourself, and Boba beckoned you over to sit on the armrest of the throne.

You did, and he spent the rest of the evening with his hand on your back, either gently running his hand along your spine or simply holding you close.

  
  


You weren’t entirely sure what to call your relationship with Boba Fett at that point. His interest in you had long since passed the line of strictly professional and felt like it was teetering into romantic, but—was it? Scenting you had been strictly for protection and convenience as one of his employees.

Hadn’t it?

Two days after that public display in the throne room, he found you lounging in the hangar, waiting for some diagnostics on your ship to come back. You were sitting on a large cargo crate and skimming over some trashy tabloids with little interest when you saw Boba stroll in. Immediately tossing your holopad to the side, you hopped off the crate and stood, trying to look at least a _little_ proper when he approached.

“Hello sir, what...brings you here…?” You gestured lamely to the hangar, as if he didn’t own it and it was somehow outlandish for him to be checking in on his own business. Boba tilted his helmet and you could feel the amusement rolling off of him, color flooding your cheeks. “Er. I mean—uh. Hi?”

Boba outright laughed at that and you were very tempted to find a cliff to throw yourself off. That thought quickly fled when Boba removed his helmet, setting it on the crate next to you both. “‘Hi’ to you too, little one.” The rich cadence of his voice simply wasn’t fair, nor was his handsome face or the intensity of his eyes. You didn’t realize you were staring until he spoke again. “We’re well past formalities at this point, don’t you think?”

“I. Uh.” Embarrassment made you want to turn away, but Boba’s gaze was captivating, demanding your attention in ways that you couldn’t resist. “If you’d like us to be.”

He gave you a curious look at that and you scrambled to think of what you said wrong. He didn’t seem disappointed though, just—curious. Mercifully, he didn’t press you further. “I came to ask you for a favor.”

You blinked, then furrowed your brows. “Favor? You’re my boss, I’m pretty sure you can just tell me to do things.”

“Not this.” Boba’s tone shifted to something more serious, and you straightened up, setting aside your lovesick pining to pay attention. “I mean it. If you don’t want to do it, be honest and we’ll pretend this conversation didn’t happen.”

You could sense the sincerity in his voice and your heart skipped a beat. “Of course, Boba.” His lips twitched when you said his name, a smile threatening to soften his face before he schooled his expression back to professional neutrality.

“Would you help me through my rut?”

A pause.

“...Pardon?” There was no way you heard him correctly.

Boba took a step closer, maintaining a carefully even tone. “I’m going into a rut soon. If you’re interested, I’d like to spend it with you.”

He doesn’t joke about these kinds of things. You’ve learned that from experience.

“Does...would that mean…” You swallowed, trying to gather yourself and not look like you were about to melt into a puddle. You had to know—you had to be sure. “Are you asking me out of convenience, or...?”

Boba reached up, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek. “I’m asking you because I’ve wanted you for a long time. Not since I found out you’re an omega, but since you turned out to be one of the best damn pilots I’ve ever had. Since you became a reliable constant in my life. Since you started being my favorite person in the room every time you’re around. Since you started throwing alphas out of your ship.”

Despite the way your cheeks were burning, you still laughed in disbelief. “What, you like that I might jettison you into space?”

“I like that you don’t settle for anything but the best.” His hand moved to run his fingers through your hair, and he savored the way you shuddered at his touch. “I like that none of those alphas are good enough to even _speak_ to you and you know it.” His other hand moved to your hip, pulling you closer to him until the two of you were pressed flush against each other. “I especially like that you bite the heads off all these other alphas, yet become so shy and sweet just for me.”

Boba cupped your cheek and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. Miraculously, your voice didn’t tremble. “You take care of me like no one else has. I knew early on I wanted an alpha like you, but...there’s _nobody_ like you. It’s hard to take anyone seriously when I know they pale in comparison.” You turned to press a kiss against his palm, smiling when you heard him practically purr in approval. “When is your rut going to hit?”

“Tomorrow at the latest, though it could start tonight if I get worked up enough.” He took your chin and tilted it up so that your eyes were locked. “Is that a yes? I need to hear you say it.”

“I would be honored to spend your rut with you, _sir_.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and he bit back a moan, the sound rumbling in his throat. “Could we have dinner together tonight? Discuss our terms before we get started? ...Establish a safeword?” He definitely seemed like the kind of man that would require a safeword before entering the bedroom.

Boba grinned, looking absolutely _predatory_. “It would be my pleasure.”

  
  


You sat on his bed after dinner, watching Boba remove each part of his armor piece by piece while you made yourself comfortable. “I’m kind of surprised—do you have strong ruts?” An alpha needing assistance with a rut certainly wasn’t unheard of, but you’d always understood it to be more of a ‘young man’ sort of problem. Boba wasn’t nearly as old as he insisted he was, but he was no young thing, either.

Boba chuckled as he removed the last of his beskar, leaving him in just his flight suit. “Not usually. However, a charming little omega I’m rather smitten with got me so worked up, my body is insisting that it’s time to _breed_.”

It should be illegal for him to say those kinds of things so casually. Even knowing what you were about to do, you couldn’t help but blush. “Ah...well, it sounds like that omega should take responsibility and help you out, huh?”

“I intend to make sure they do.” He gestured for you to lay back on the bed and you complied, scooching yourself further onto the soft sheets before flopping back, head hitting his pillows. Boba stalked over to the bed with the focus and anticipation of a predator pursuing its prey. Having his complete attention on you was nerve wracking, but he didn’t give you time to be nervous, quickly joining you on the bed and caging you beneath him.

The fondness in his eyes as he looked down at you was almost too much for your heart to bear. You leaned up ever so slightly, eager to feel him against you. “Kiss me?”

His lips were on yours in an instant. Boba was as thorough in this as he was everything else, patient and methodical as he coaxed your mouth open for him, teasing your lower lip with his teeth and devouring the sounds you made in response. You’d hardly realized he was undressing you, too consumed by the roll of his hips against yours until he had to pull away long enough to tug your clothing off. The moment you were both bare, he tangled himself with you again, slowly mapping out your body with his hands as he continued to kiss you senseless.

He worked you through two orgasms using his clever hands and mouth before even touching himself, and the first time he fucked you, it was unbelievably tender. He kept a steady rhythm as he rocked into you, resting his forehead against yours and caressing your sides while you tried to meet his thrusts, legs wrapped around his waist and hands clinging to his back. He kissed you as you came, then buried his face against your neck as he found his own completion, buried inside of you and filling you with liquid heat.

You were panting for breath as Boba pressed kisses along your neck and shoulders, sucking a few marks into your skin and giving a rumble of approval deep in his throat when you gasped at his touch. Weakly turning your head to look to him, you shuddered and realized he was still hard, your insides fluttering around him and drawing out a long groan from Boba. You pressed a kiss to his head. “Rut starting to hit you?”

“Yes,” he breathed out against your collarbone, trailing sloppy kisses back up to your jaw. “Is it alright if I start manhandling you?” You outright moaned in response and Boba chuckled, the sound deep and dark and sending shivers down your spine. “Well well, the fussy little omega isn’t so high and mighty now, are they? Want me to pick you up? Move you however I want? Bend you over and take you wherever I please?”

When you tried to respond, your first word was brutally interrupted by Boba grabbing you by the ass and hoisting you up, rising to his knees and holding you on his lap, still seated on his cock. One hand stayed on your hip to hold you steady while the other came up to your back, keeping you upright against his chest. Gravity pulled you even further onto him and you let out a trembling whine from being so perfectly speared on Boba’s length. “Oh, please, Boba, please…”

“Is this what you needed?” He lifted you a few inches and slammed you back down, biting back a groan behind gritted teeth as you openly wailed in overwhelmed pleasure. “Spent all this time fighting off other alphas because you needed _me_ to fuck you?”

“Yes!” you sobbed, head tipped back to bare your throat to him. “Ever since—since my heat, that first heat here, I—I wanted you so bad, spent the entire time imagining that it was you, w-wanted you to fuck me in front of that shitbag, s-show him what he was m-missing and how much b-better you are, what he would n-never get to have because you own me—”

Boba let your back fall onto the bed but kept your hips held up against him, anchoring his hands on your waist with a bruising grip as he fucked into you with new fervor. “Is that right, little one? You want me to own you?” His voice was an abyssal rumble, earth shattering and dripping volcanic heat into your core. “Take you in front of everyone so they can see how much you love my cock? Force them to watch me fuck your brains out?”

The mental image was enough to make you cum, arching your back off the bed and screaming your pleasure to the room. Boba held you even tighter, grinding his cock as deeply as he could and roaring as he spilled ropes of hot cum against your walls.

Your insides were sensitive, already fluttering from being filled by Boba, but he continued to grind down into you and you cried out in overstimulated pleasure, trying to squirm away from him. He growled and roughly flipped you onto your stomach, leaving your heat for only a second before thrusting harshly back in. You sobbed, trying to lift yourself by your elbows only to be shoved down by Boba’s firm hand between your shoulder blades. He started pumping his hips again and you buried your face in the sheets, whimpering and begging for a brief reprieve from his onslaught.

“Take it,” he hissed through bared teeth, straddling your legs and keeping them pressed tight together as he rode into you. “If you want to get fucked, you’re going to get fucked until _I_ say you’re done.” Boba wrenched one of your arms behind your back and used it for leverage to pull you into his thrusts, your free hand going to clutch weakly at the sheets around you. “And I’m not stopping until I’ve spent every last _drop_ of my cum inside you.” You could feel and _hear_ his heavy balls slapping against you amidst the symphony of obscene noises flooding the room, and you whimpered imagining just how much he could fill you with.

When your pleading devolved into wordless cries, Boba shifted again, hiking up your hips but keeping your upper body pressed to the bed. The position was demeaning and sent a rush of heat through you, and Boba only had to snap his hips to yours a few times to make you cum again.

Boba decided to have mercy and finally slowed his pace to allow you to catch your breath, and it was then that you realized the burning fever you felt across your body wasn’t from exertion. The moment you tensed, Boba paused entirely, folding over you to speak softly. “Was that alright? Do you want to stop?”

“N-No, that was...it was good, too good.” You could feel the confusion from Boba without even looking at him, and you groaned, somehow embarrassed by this despite the fact the man was literally balls deep inside of you. “I...think your rut triggered my heat...?”

There was a moment of pause as Boba processed the full implications of what you’d just said, and you could _feel_ his cock twitch and throb inside of you when he pressed his face to your shoulder and let out an unrestrained moan. “Sweet thing, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Need was already beginning to set your body alight. Without thinking, you started rocking your hips, grinding back against Boba as best you could, and he growled against your skin, immediately picking up where he’d left off pounding you into the mattress. It didn’t take long for both of you to climax together, feverish desire consuming both of you.

Boba helped you roll onto your back before he settled onto the bed next to you, both of you panting hard and trying to savor this small window of satisfaction. You glanced over and found him staring at you with adoration and concern, eyes filled with love but brows creased. “You didn’t know you’d be in heat when you agreed to this. Do you want to keep going? We can stop if you’re not comfortable.”

“If you stop fucking me, Boba, I swear, I will cuff you to the bed and ride you through my heat.”

He was surprised for only a moment before he slowly started to grin. “I’d like to see you try, if you want to play this game.” You propped yourself up with one elbow, leaning your head against your hand as you studied him.

“...Depends. Got a pair of binders?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed it and maybe I'll write another? Feedback is the main way I gauge interest in my work so if you want more let me know! (Also I desperately need the validation)


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